Disclaimer: I'm just playing in the Glee sandbox. If you recognize it from elsewhere, I don't own it.
Author's Note: Hello! If we haven't met before, I'm Heather. I have just a few words before the story begins.
This week is Klaine week. If you're not familiar, you can find out about it here (remove spaces): klaineweek2012. tumblr. com. If all goes according to plan, I'll be posting all week based on the prompt of the day. I've had the idea to write a story about the legend of the paper cranes for a long time, and this week seemed like the perfect fit. I hope you enjoy the themed vignettes this week. Please review, if you are so moved, and find me on Tumblr: arainymonday.
Prompt for Day #1: Kiddie!Klaine.
"He who folds one thousand papers cranes pleases the gods and shall have his heart's greatest desire."
—Japanese proverb
A THOUSAND PAPER CRANES
PAPER WISHES
Elizabeth Hummel waded carefully through the sea of five-year-olds causing chaos around the classroom. One misstep could mean pinching a tiny finger with her heel or knocking a head with her knee, and aside from not wanting to harm her students, one crying preschooler often resulted in ten screaming, shrieking drama queens.
From the front of the room, the teacher called out to her class. "It's time for our art lesson. Let's put away our toys and get our supplies from our cubbies, okay? You have two minutes. Ready … set … go!"
The students rushed to win the "game" the teacher liked to play with them every afternoon. Sixteen boys and girls hastily stowed their toys in the baskets lining the wall and raced across the room to find the packet of art supplies Elizabeth had slipped into their cubbies before school started. As necessary, she scooted her students along or broke up squabbles. The students made it to one of the six rectangular tables after two-and-a-half minutes. Elizabeth pretended they'd done it on time so she didn't have to take away any of the gold stars on their merit chart.
Some of the more inquisitive students had already begun poking through their art packet even though they knew they weren't supposed to.
"Mrs. Hummel! Mrs. Hummel, you made a boo-boo. There is only just paper in here."
"I love paper!" Blaine cried happily.
Elizabeth bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Blaine loved everything. Sometimes, he walked around the room patting inanimate objects and saying 'I love you!' while the others played with dolls or trucks (or, more often than not, protected the dolls from the trucks). She tried not to pick favorites, but she'd been charmed by Blaine the first time she saw his unruly curls and bowties. The first time he'd scraped his knee on the playground, Elizabeth had patched him up herself and kissed it better so she didn't have to see his big, expressive eyes swimming with tears. She knew then the boy had her wrapped around his little finger.
"I do too, Blaine," she said, segueing into the lesson. "I especially like this kind of paper. It's a very special kind called origami paper. Does anyone know what origami is?"
She received the expected honest, funny guesses a preschool class could dream up: a fruit, a unicorn, underwear, a country, a superhero, a treehouse, a dog, their bus driver, a book, the color of Mrs. Cohen-Chang's fingernails, a cartoon. After thirty seconds of letting them scream out whatever answers their imaginations supplied, the teacher raised her palms, and they quieted down. Blaine had his hand in the air.
"Yes, Blaine? Did you have a guess?"
He nodded. In the sweet, soft voice he used when he wasn't spontaneously proclaiming his love for something, he answered. "A paper animal."
Elizabeth's eyebrows rose slightly and a pleased smile passed over her lips. She knew Blaine was a bright child, but it never ceased to amaze her when he displayed his intelligence in such an unassuming way.
"That's very good, Blaine. Origami is folded paper, usually in the shape of an animal. Today, I'm going to show you how to make a paper crane. There is an old Japanese story that says if you fold one thousand paper cranes, you get to make a wish."
The class exploded into cries of disbelief.
"A thousand? That would take my whole life!"
"It would be easier to find a genie lamp!"
"And you'd get more wishes!"
Elizabeth indulged their need to scream about everything for a few moments. Her eyes flicked over to Blaine. He sat with his hands folded over his lap and big, hazel eyes gazing hungrily at her, like even at five-years-old he had a burning desire only mystical wishes could grant him. She looked away with some difficulty to bring the class to order.
"Everyone find a sheet of plain white paper in your packet. We're going to practice together."
Elizabeth showed them the folds using the document camera on her desk. Their chubby, clumsy fingers struggled to follow her precise folds, but they were easily satisfied. Artie produced something vaguely resembling a triangle and skipped up to her desk to show it off proudly.
"Keep practicing using the instructions on the board. I'm going to come around and help you fold the fancy sheet of paper in your packet."
Elizabeth forced herself to start on the opposite side of the room from Blaine. She'd never move on if she bent down next to her favorite student. She'd never seen anything like the hungry look in his eyes from a five-year-old before. It scared her. More worrisome, it triggered her maternal instincts and made her want to cuddle him and plant kisses all over his face like she did with Kurt when he had a nightmare.
"Let's see how you're doing, Tina," Elizabeth said.
Blaine did not love this stupid piece of paper very much. It wouldn't fold right no matter how many times his brain and his fingers told it what to do. He did okay folding the straight lines and smoothing out the paper again, but then he had to bunch the paper up, and he couldn't get it to go like the drawing on Mrs. Hummel's instruction sheet.
The more times he tried and failed to make the paper crane, the more determined he got. His eyebrows drew together with a crease between, and his tongue poked out from between his teeth. He tried so hard his forehead got a little sweaty and matted down his curls. He had to do this. He had to get that wish!
He tried and tried until the paper weakened with too many folds and tore jaggedly apart when Blaine flattened it down with his palms. He stared in shocked disbelief at the paper. His lower lip poked out and wobbled. He dropped his chin to his chest as the world went blurry behind the tears building up in his eyes.
"Why are you sad?"
Blaine turned his head towards the soft voice at his ear. A blurred picture of a boy with light brown hair and Mrs. Hummel's bright blue-green eyes sat next to him. He came into class sometimes. Blaine thought he was Mrs. Hummel's little boy. He had on a pink and white bowtie that Blaine loved. Normally, he would have shouted at the boy how much he loved his bowtie and hugged him and been best friends with him, but …
"My heart got crushed," he answered, his voice shaking.
The little boy next to him gasped and chewed on his bottom lip as his eyes filled with tears. He asked in a tiny, sorrowful voice, "Who crushed your heart?"
Blaine pointed at the paper. "My wish got torn up."
The boy frowned at the torn paper, like it had called him a mean name. He wiped at his eyes with the heels of his palms and patted Blaine's hands resting in his lap. Tears smeared over the skin between them. Blaine's fingers twitched closed, trapping the boy's hand in his.
"I'm Blaine, the boy without a wish."
"I'm Kurt, the boy who is going to fix your wish."
Blaine looked up quickly. A bright, happy feeling bubbled up in his chest. No one had ever done anything magical for him before. The words tumbled out of his mouth, even though his daddy and mommy had scolded him for saying it to people.
"I love you!"
Kurt giggled. "I love you too."
Blaine's eyes flew open wide, and his jaw went slack. "Wow," he breathed. "You really are magic, Kurt. You fixed my wish!"
"No, I didn't. I haven't taped your paper yet."
"You did fix it! My wish was that somebody would love me as much as I love them."
Blaine jumped up from his chair and threw himself at Kurt. The other little boy giggled and hugged him back just as tightly as Blaine squeezed him. His eyes slipped closed, and his head fell against Kurt's shoulder.
"You're the best, Kurt."
"The best what?"
"Everything!"
Kurt knew now why his mommy had sent him over to Blaine after his daddy had dropped him off from half-day kindergarten. He was the perfect friend for Kurt. He was nice and wore a really pretty green bowtie that matched his eyes. He needed Kurt's help too, and Kurt liked helping people. No one at kindergarten liked it when Kurt helped them. They called him mean names, like when stupid Rachel Berry had screamed at him today that he was a know-it-all. Then he'd gotten time out for calling her a show-off, even though everyone agreed with him.
"Oh!" Kurt preened. "You're the … sweetest everything!"
Blaine's cheeks flooded with heat. He looked away shyly and mumbled, "Thank you."
Some stupid boys started a fight in the corner of the room, and Kurt's mommy rushed over to stop them punching each other. When Kurt looked back at his new friend, Blaine blinked his big, pretty eyes slowly. He looked a little scared, like he thought Kurt wanted to play with those dumb boys.
"Do you still want to make a paper crane? My mommy had me practice last night because she thought it might be too hard for kids, but I made a nice one."
Blaine shrugged. "I don't know. I already got my wish. I don't know if I have to make a thousand anymore. I should probably share the wishes that are left in the world."
"But if you didn't fold a whole thousand you wouldn't be using up a wish. You could just have a really pretty paper bird in your room. We can make it with this paper."
Kurt found the teal paper with gold and green flowers on it in the art pack he'd helped his mommy put together last night. He hoped Blaine would say yes because he wanted to make another paper crane. It had been so much fun last night.
Blaine ran his forefinger along the rough surface of the heavy paper. He chewed on his lower lip while he considered, and then he nodded. Kurt clapped happily and rocked back in his chair. He sat up straight, very seriously, like when his daddy argued with a customer over how much it cost to put new tires on a car.
"Okay. Put your hands on top of mine, but not too tight."
This was how his mommy had taught him last night. He'd rested his hands on top of hers while she folded the paper, and then he'd tried to make a few paper cranes of his own. He went very slowly with Blaine's fancy paper. His tongue peeked out from between his lips when he lined up the folds and smoothed them down. Sometimes, Blaine's fingers pressed down on top of his to help him push down the paper.
When they finished folding the paper crane, Kurt balanced it in his palm for Blaine to inspect. He just looked for a few minutes. Kurt worried his new friend would hate it and call him a know-it-all and make him go away forever. He pressed his mouth together and breathed deeply.
"It's perfect," Blaine whispered.
Kurt reverently set the paper crane down on the table before he hugged Blaine tightly.
Elizabeth stopped short when she saw Kurt hugging Blaine. A warm smile bursting with maternal and teacher pride broke over her lips. A paper crane on the table caught her eye. They'd made a mess of it. There were gaps in the paper where white peeked through, the wings were uneven lengths, and the tail was three times as long as the head. It hardly looked better than Artie's vague triangle.
But they thought it was perfect, and she agreed.
